Pilot
by crazyChick7
Summary: Dean doesn't go to get Sam in the pilot. AU
1. Chapter 1

Okay, I promise I'll get back to crashing planes at some point. This is a new story. I would like to clarify, in case I get any reviews about this, that this is not a death fic.

This is an AU from the pilot episode.

Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me.

A few notes: Dean fights the woman in white alone. John still disappears.

Chapter 1

John Winchester made a point of never sneaking into a mans motel room unarmed. Especially, if the man was his son Dean. He knew his son well, and he also knew, by doing

this, he was risking serious injuryfrom whatever he had under his pillow. He didn't care. A bullet wound may have been easier for him to deal with. However, nothing happened

and he managed to close the door quietly. Despite the time, the light was on and so was the television. Perhaps that was why he was lying in pain on the floor. His son was

awake. Maybe he already knew. John shuddered. When he turned around, he saw what was unmistakably his son under the blankets of the single bed furthest from the doorm

fast asleep. John glanced at the television and winced. The news was coming on again. He reached for the remote and pressed mute. Sam's picture appeared on the screen. He

looked away and bit his lip. He was thankful he had muted the television. He didn't know how many more times he could listen to the story. It was bad, no horrible enough,

hearing it the first time.

His foot nudged an empty beer bottle. Scanning the floor, he counted three others. There was the reason Dean hadn't woken up. He'd druken himself into a stupor. It was fitting,

John reasoned. Drink until the pain stops eating away at you. Until you can't feel the pain. Until you don't know how you are anymore. That had been John's second instinct when

he heard the news. The first was to find his son.

Now, looking at Dean (who was sleeping peacefully), he felt the sadness creep up on him again. Innocence and peace were apparent on his childs face. John didn't want to be

the one to end that. To wake him up and remind him of the harsh new reality they faced. Because that's what it was. Harsh. Unforgiving and hard. John sat on the empty bed and

sighed. He let Dean sleep on. John had no intention of sleeping.

Dean awoke to one hell of a hang-over. Clapping his hand to his hand, he moaned softly. He sat up and the blankets fell off him. He was still fully clothed. He jumped in fright

when he looked across the room.

"Dad?"

His dad was lying with his back leaning against the headboard. He was watching Dean silently. He looked utterly woebegone. Dean wondered what he was doing here.

"DAd? I got your journal. Why did you leave it?"

John was silent. He did not seem to hear Deans questions. His eyes narrowed and he sighed.

"Dad?"

"That doesn't matter now." His voice was hoarse.

"What?"

"Why I left doesn't matter."

Dean was thrown by the flippancy of this statement. "Why would you say something like that?"

JOhn picked up the remote. Turning up the sound, he motioned for Dean to watch.

"...residents of the nearby buildings and bars were evacuated."

Dean didn't see the relevancy of this. H opened his mouth to question his dad but John, sensing this, shook his head and motioned for him to watch.

"The extent of the damage is obvious-" The picture of a ruined apartment flashed up. "Firefighters worked around the clock for three hours to contain the blaze. Police have

confirmed two fatalities."

Two pictures flashed up onto the screen, to replace the scene of the ruined building. Dean felt winded.

"Sammy..."

Sam Winchesters face smiled at them from the screen.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me.

Chapter 2.

They had been driving for two hours in silence. Dean sat in the passenger seat, with his head pressed against the window. Dean hadn't asked where they were going. He did not

really care. The countryside blurred as they sped down another road. John, uncomfortable with the silence, asked, "Are you okay Dean?"

Dean silenced him with a dark look. "Stupid question..." He reached for the radio. He switched it on. The sound of the newsreader filled the car.

"And in other news police have now confirmed they are treating the fire in Paulo Alto as suspicious-"

Dean switched off the radio. "Are you angry at me son?"

Again, Dean did not speak. He shot his father a questioning look that clearly asked, why?

"I don't know. Because I wasn't there. For either of you."

"You were there for us."

John shook his head and looked back at the road, "Not when it counted. Not when it mattered."

Dean switched his gaze to the window again. His heart pounding with the accuracy with the statement.

Dean must have fallen asleep. He did not think he could have, but didn't question it. He was glad for the rest. When he awoke, John was parking the car at the kerb of what

looked like, a residental area. When he finished, he looked over at Dean and nodded. "Your awake." he said quietly.

"Where are we?" Dean didn't recognise the area.

"Home."

"Wh-"

"Lawerence. We've come back to Lawerence."

Dean felt the knot in his stomach tighten slightly. He had always vowed never to come back to this place. The start of it all. But then again, he had vowed to always be there for

his baby bro. So, he guessed, things changed.

"I don't recognise-"

"This is the other part of town. You wouldn't recognise this place. We are at a friends house. Missouri Mossely."

"A friend?" Dean questioned.

"She's a good friend," John turned in his seat, "I spoke to her while you were sleeping. She's going to let us stay with her."

"What about Sammy. I want to go to him. I wanna-"

"I know Dean," John said soothingly, "I know. You'll see Sam soon."

"I want to go now. I thought that's where you were driving us."

"I took care of it Dean. Trust me."

"What did you do?" Dean asked, agigated.

"As soon as possible, we're going to take Sam home. He's coming back to Lawerence, back to us, one last time."

Dean cast his eyes around, looking for a distraction. His gaze landed on his phone. He reached for it almost eagerly, and flipped it over. Distraction came in the form of a

message, informing him he had a new voicemail. He dialled the correct numbers and waited for the automated messages to stop. He could feel himself calming down as he did so.

The aching thought of his baby brother alone was killing him slowly.

Concentrating on this message allowed that thought to drift away. To fall back to the back of his mind.

"Hey Dean," Dean jolted upwards. He gasped and his face scrunched. John asked him what was wrong but Dean shushed him. He was straining to hear. The message was from

Sam.

"I know it's been a long time. I've wanted to call you and dad so many times. How are you. Hunted anything good lately? ( he sounded nervous to Dean, as though he did not

know what to say) That's not why I am calling. I proposed to a girl tonight Dean. Her names Jessica. God you'd love her. She said yes. Yes! I'm engaged, can you believe it. I

asked her about ten minutes ago. The person I wanted to tell- the people, if you include dad- aren't here. I am sorry. Call me back soon. We should meet up. Just...just call me."

With a chuckle the message ends, leaving a stunned Dean.

IT IS AN AU: I KNOW HE DOESN'T PROPOSE IN THE PILOT :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 3.

"Dean?!"

"Dean? Where are you going? Dean!?" John called at the fast retreating back of his oldest child. He was bewildered. Dean had thrown his phone, for no apparent reason, away

from him and left the car so fast he could have had the hounds of hell behind him. Sprinting to catch up with him, he was brought to an abrupt stop when a voice called,

"John," He turned. Framed in the door of the house stood Missouri, shaking her head. "Leave him. Let him be. He'll come back."

He had half a mind to argue and had opened his mouth to do so, before changing his mind. He just could not be bothered, nor summon up the energy to. Instead, he went back

to the car, sat on his hunches and picked up the offending phone. He phoned the last call, voicemail, pressed the relevant buttons and gasped. "Sammy..."

Sammy was engaged. He had not even known he was seeing anyone. Him. Dean knew as much, maybe more, about the guy as he did. Angry tears were spilling down his

cheeks as he ran. He didn't know who his brother was. That bothered him more than anything. He, through his stupid pride, had squandered the last years with his brother.

"What did he like? What were his hobbies? How many friends did he have? What did he do all day?"

Dean could not answer any of those questions. The brother he knew, the rebellious teenager, was a distant memory. Dean did not have any clue about that man he had become.

His chest was heaving with barely suppressed emotion. He came to a stop at the corner of an unfamiliar street. There was no-one around. He could hear the distant roar of cars.

He didn't have any clue how long he stood at that street corner.

Anger surged through him, rising unexpectedly to the boil, he made a fist and threw it through the window of the nearest car. Pain coursed through him as he gingerly withdrew

the hand. His arm was slick with blood.

Oddly, he felt no pain. He could hear the alarm of the car whine loudly. He ignored it. He drew back his arm again, getting ready to punch through the window again. Someone

grabbed his arm and threw him roughly around.

_Who in the hell??_

It was a guy, around his age. He was around the same height as Dean. His face was twisted as menacingly as he could make it. ( Which was was not even remotely scary,

thought Dean)

"What do you think your doing? That's my car!"

Dean would have thought that that was obvious. He didn't waste his breath replying. He just watched the man mildly. This seemed to anger him. Pulling him by his arm, which he

still hadn't let go of, he threw him forward, away from the car. Dean stumbled, lost his footing and tripped, landing with a thud on the ground. Furious, he rose up, ready to

retaliate. Normally he would not bother. He'd just have turned on the charm.

Sorry, normally he wouldn't be putting his hands through anyone's car windows. He punched the guy, hearing the crunch anfd knowing he had broken the mans nose. He fell to

the ground at Deans feet, whimpering for him to leave him alone.

"Coward," he snarled, "It's only your nose. Sammy-"

He never got to finish that sentence. At that moment, he was tackled from behind by a police officer he had not seen nor heard coming. He did not fight. The anger that had rose

within him had gone and he was left with the same awful feeling of loss that not even a car window could shift.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for the reviews.

Chapter 4

Dean recognised trouble as soon as he walked through the door. Trouble, his version, came in the form of a self important balding police officer. Dean looked up, mildly

interested. He had been sitting in the holding cell for over two hours without anyone questioning him. He knew that this was not just about a little vandalism now.

The man took his time in settling, savoring the power he held in the room.Dean didn't like the way the police officer was looking at him. "Dean Winchester?" he finally asked.

"Yup."

"Born right here in Lawerence?" He looked up, waiting for an answer.

"Yup."

"Mother died in a house fire?"

Dean frowned. He could sense the guy was leading up to something. These questions were meaningless. He probably had the answers right there in the folder in front of him.

"What's this all about?"

"Vandalism and assault," tutted the man, raising an eyebrow. Dean bristled at the tone. HE WAS NOT FIVE YEARS OLD! Trying to keep his temper, he explained calmly.

"I have already cleared that up. The guy isn't going to press charges I am willing to pay for the guys window. That should be it! Why am I still here?"

"You have quite a temper Mr Winchester," the man put in mildly.

"I am having a bad fucking day." he snarled.

The man shook his head. He tutted. "It is not just today though. Two counts of assault-"

"In the past. What does that have to-"( He didn't elaborate the real reason for his colourful history. Hunts gone bad. He would probably have got laughed at.)

"Several unconfirmed reports of a person matching your description at crime scenes, using fraudulant credit cars and-"

"Those weren't me," The man continued as though he hadn't heard Deans defence.

"The most interesting to my mind, arson."

Dean finally saw where this was headed. It was like a punch to the stomach. How could someone even insinuate something like that? He would never, could never, do something

like that.

"That still has not answered my question. What is this all about? Why am I still being held here if there are no charges for the vandalism?"

"Where were you on the night of the 4th?"

_The fourth. The night Sammy..._

"At a bar."

"What's the name of the bar?"

"I don't remember. Why are you asking me this stuff?"

"Because, Mr Winchester, because you have no credible alibi for that night. The night that your brother died."

"I WAS AT A BAR!" Dean exploded, "YOU FUCKING RENT A COP!"

"I am the detective in charge of your brother and Miss Moores case. And you, Mr Winchester, are now the prime suspect."

"What?! I would never hurt my brother! I love him!"

"Is that really true? Most of Sam's friends did not know he had a brother."

"Sam's a private person!" Dean shot back.

"Why did you do it Dean? Come on, were you jealous? Sam's life was going great. He had a fiance. An excellent future. What did you have? Nothing! Did you go and see him?

Did an argument get out of hand? Neighbours heard raised voices around twelve. Did you try and surprise them while they were in bed? Did they fight back?"

Dean said nothing.

The man was insistent, "Come on Dean. Help me understand what happened. Help me understand how Sam died.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

I would like to emphasis that this is an AU so some details will be different.

This is not a death fic!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 5

_Don't rise. Don't rise. Don't rise._ Dean implored himself _Don't make it any worse for yourself._

After grilling him for another hour the detective had left Dean alone. He assumed that that was a scare tactic, used to try to force him into a confession. Dean was not remotely

scared. He was pissed off. As the seconds ticked by, he could feel his frustration rising. The detective returned, this time, holding another folder. He watched Dean grimly. He sat

down, opened the file and slid a photograph towards Dean. Dean rose up and backed away, refusing to look.

"Come on Dean. Look at the photo. Look at what you did. Where's all the smart-ass remarks now?"

Dean shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard the man sliding out, what he assumed to be, the rest of the photographs onto the table. Each were probably as horrific

as the last.

"Look Dean," the man was so close, he cold feel his breath on his ear, "Don't be a coward. Look at them! Look at what you did to them! To your brother!"

"I didn't" whispered Dean.

"You did!" he replied forcefully. "Admit it and this will all be over!"

"Please stop," Dean could feel the tears falling onto his cheeks from under his closed lashes. "Stop it. Please"

"Where is my son?" John bellowed at the man sitting behind the front desk. Slightly taken aback by John's anger, he asked "Name?"

"Dean Winchester," John snarled, leaning over the desk as the man typed the name into his computer.

"Well, sir if you would like to..." he broke off from his usual speech at the look in John's eyes. It was murderous. "Where is my son," he asked again, in a voice of deadly calm.

"I'll just...I'l just go and get the officer in charge-" he mumbled and disappeared into the back room. JOhn snarled after him, not budging from his space until the man returned,

with an older officer at his heels.

"Dean?"

"Your son is currently helping us with our inquiries."

"He shoved his arm through somebody's window. Don't you guys have anything better to do?"

"He's currently helping us with the investagation into your youger son's death."

"But Dean didn't have anything to do with that," he replied blankly, "Dean did not have anything to do with that." He repeated with more force.

"I want to take my son home now."

"Sir-"

"No!I AM TAKING MY SON HOME NOW!"


	6. Chapter 6

disclaimer: Nothing is owned by me.

chapter 6

"Dean..." the new man coaxed. He was obviously trying to "good cop" routine. It was not working, Dean still didn't say anything.

"Do you have any history of mental illness?"

That question got Dean's attention. He looked up, caught the mans eyes and broke into a grin. "Why-?"

The man shrugged carelessly, " You've had a hard life Dean. Mother dead at a young age-"

That wiped the smile right off Deans face. He was about to reply when the door opened and the detective from before came in. He wore an annoyed expression. "You're free to

go Mr Winchester. Thank you for your time. I am sorry for your loss." Dean was surprised but he stood up. He was eager to go.

"No you're not sorry." He said softly as he reached the door. "You're sorry that I'm innocent. You're sorry that you have no clue how did it. You're also sorry that you're an

incompetent asshole." He mouthed the last two words.

"Careful Mr Winchester or I may have to caution you for verbally abusing a police officer."

"Prove it," goaded Dean recklessly. "Chuckles here won't back you up. And the cameras point here and here ( he pointed), nowhere near me. And I personally don't think that

anyone's going to believe you, not after today. Sour grapes and all that." Dean strode out, leaving an astonished silence in his wake.

"Dean!" someone called his name. As he turned, someone clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Dad, hey-" He tried to explain his situation but John cut him off.

"I can't leave you alone for an hour can I?" John smiled tiredly as he lead Dean, who was speechless,to his car.

"How did you know that I was there?" Dean asked quietly. He examined his hands and refused to look up.

"One of them," he voiced the last word with disgust, " answered your cell. Told me where you were. I came right down and found out-"

"They thought I hurt Sammy?" he asked in a quiet voice. John nodded. HIs hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Completely ridiculous of course. I soon set em

straight." There was a note of pride in his voice.

"What did you do?"

"Aside from scaring an ugly looking detective?" JOhn smiled, "Gave you an alibi. If you ask me I let them off lightly. How dare they-" John broke off and glanced sideways at

Dean. A smile was forming on his lips.

"Thanks dad, thanks for not asking questions. Not judging me. Or doubting me. Thanks."

Two weeks later.

Dean stared into space. He couldn't look at anyone, which was difficult seeing as the modest living room was full. The people, men and women he and his family had interacted

with throughout his life. Some were there due to a sense of loyalty. The Winchesters had been there for them, in their time of need, and now was the time to repay the favor.

Dean didn't recognise half of them. He had seen Caleb, looking awkward in a suit in the kitchen. He had dodged Pastor Jim at least twice. Bobby had offered him his

condolences at one point. There was an odd hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. The clock on the mantle struck eleven.

Dean looked at, transfixed. All of a sudden, his dad was by his side shaking him gently. "It's time to go Dean."

NEXT CHAPTER: THE FUNERAL. ANGSTY (HOPEFULLY)


	7. Chapter 7

disclaimer: I own nothing.

Their journey to the church was quick and uneventful. They made it there in less than ten minutes. The last time he had visited a Church, properly visited a Church, was with his

family- his mum dad and Sammy. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair. They had given so much and fought but what was it all for? For it to end like this? Dean

wondered what his dad was thinking. The past two weeks had raught an alarming change on the man his father was. Gone was the warrior, the fighter and the champion. All the

fight had gone out of John. He was broken. Dean had seen him watch him, when he thought that he wasn't looking. He wondered if his dad wished it were different? If his dad

wanted Sammy alive instead of him. Dean did. He would have freely admitted it to anyone who would have thought to ask. It was a selfish wish- for the pain to end and to give

in, but he didn't care.He felt so lost, so helpless without Sam.

Sam was waiting for them at the Church. Deans eyes found the simple coffin as he got out of the car. They were the first to arrive. John got out and stood next to Dean. He could

feel unwilling tears spring to his eyes again. "Hey Sammy," he muttered, "Don't be scared. We'll be with you all the way. You'll never be alone."

John had joined him. "I love you."

They lapsed into silence. A million phrases were at Deans tongue. All the things he should say to Sam. He could not choose the right one. He remained quiet. Bobby and Caleb

joined them after a minute. Dean looked around and was slightly thrown. Mourners were streaming into the Church. He had not heard any of them approach. Bobby clapped a

hand on Deans shoulder and said,

"Sorry Dean. I know how close you and Sam were."

_Were._ Past tense. He felt it like a punch to the stomach.

Missouri appeared by his fathers side. She was watching John carefully. Dean knew the woman could read thoughts. He wondered what she was hearing.

"You'll be okay John. You'll be able to do it."

Dean knew what she was talking about. That is why they were standing there. Preparing to carry Sam into the Church. It was hard enough to think about. Dean had carried Sam

to safety, aware from the fire that had killed their mother. It felt like a betrayal, to carry him to his grave. Where he would be alone. Forever. Missouri glanced sharply at him.

Dean looked away.

ARGH!

Missouri was on the ground grimacing in pain. JOhn Bobby and Caleb had all bent to help her. Dean did as well. With their help, she stood up again. She glanced shakily at the

coffin, then to JOhn, then to Dean.

"John...Dean..." she intoned.

"What Missouri? Whatis it Are you okay?" John asked, concerned.

"I saw..I saw..."

"What Missouri?"

Missouri took a breath to stead herself. "That is not. That's not-"

"What Missouri?" It was Deans turn to ask.

"I do not know who that is. That is not Sam." She pointed a quavering finger at the coffin.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for the reviews. Love 'em :P

Chapter 8

Silence followed this little announcement. Deans brain seemed to have jammed. He had heard Missouri's words, he knew what she had said, but it didn't register. He couldn't

quite grasp what she was saying, what she was telling them and what it entailed. He looked to Missouri for help, but found none (she continued to gesture at the coffin). He

looked blankly to his dad. JOhn neither saw his sons attempt to catch his eye, or he ignored it. He was frowning and chewing on his lip.

"Missouri?" Dean ventured after a second. "What do you mean?" (Maybe asking would help him fight through the fuzz in his brain)

"That is not Sam." she repeated, a little more forcefully this time. Caleb's eyes widened and Bobby let out a gasp. Other than that, they made no sign that they had been affected

by Missouri's announcement. They recognised this as a Winchester moment.

"But," impatience grated his tone. (she had not really answered his question) "How do you know it isn't Sam?"He didn't dare believe or hope.

"The last thing this man saw," she gulped, took a steadying breath and continued "before he died was Sam. Screaming."

_The mystery person who was seen around Sam's apartment._

"Sam? Screaming?" Disbelief was obvious in his dad's voice. You wouldn't have needed to be a physic to know that JOhn was questioning her. Missouri finally tore her eyes

away from the coffin and rounded on John.

"Do you want me to describe it to you? The heat of the flames? The darkness? The sight of your son struggling? The fear on his face? All I know is that the last thing this poor

soul saw, before he died was your youngest son."

"Darkness?" asked Dean quietly, the colour fading from his face.

"Demon." John confirmed grimly.

"The demon?" Dean asked. His hand clapped the his mouth in shock.

"Fire and death are his MO." John nodded

"But there was only two bodies recovered," Dean said slowly, "A male and a female. Does that mean-"

"There's hope for Sam yet." There was a glint in Johns eyes that Dean hadn't seen in a long time, "A slight hope-"

"No," Dean disagreed. "I think Sammys gotta be alive. I mean, it goes to all that trouble, to attack them and make us think that he was dead. He wouldn't just kill him. That's not

what he would have wanted- or else there'd be three bodies in that apartment.

Missouri gasped and fear flitted across her face. Her breath quickened as terror took over.

"what is it Missouri? What's the matter?" Bobby asked concernedly.

"Evil," she uttered, pointing across the road. A lone figure stood there, unmistakebly watching them. Despite the bright day, he (it was a man) was wearing a long woolen coat

buttoned up to the neck and a hat pulled down over his head. He took a slow step forward, moving closer to them. Then another. The four men and one woman watched,

transfixed, until John yelled,

"Into the Church!" He threw out an arm and grabbed Dean pulling him along. Bobby, Caleb and Missouri followed closely in his wake.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

This is a really short chapter.

"How bad is it Missouri?" John yelled as they slammed the Church doors shut. The three men stood with their backs pressed against the door, waiting for some clue as to what to

do next. The congregation, who had stood out of repect at the sound of footsteps were watching confusedly. Some glanced at their neighbours.

"Bad. It's pure evil."

The old womans words carried easily around the Church. An outbreak of muttering erupted at those words. A few people got up to leave, clearly scared at the new

developments.

"You can't leave," Missouri implored the people moving towards them, "It'll kill you if you leave. You are safer here."

The words stirred up something with Dean. Why would a demon choose to attack here? With a room full of hunters, it didn't make an sense. He pushed those queries away and

concentrated at the task. Keeping everyone safe. God knows what lay beyond those doors, that thing may have brought it's buddies. Whatever. He was not prepared to risk the

lives of all those innocent families who had taken the time to come to pay

their respects to his brother. "Barricade the doors," he shouted to the three men and the congregation at large. "Come on!" he yelled, when no-one moved. He was rewarded

when a three people detached themselves from the crowd and ran to see to the door behind the altar.

He turned to help John and Bobby as they pulled a wooden pew across the length of the door. Whatever was outside the door, had reached the other side of the road. Dean

could hear their firm footsteps as they approached the door. However it was, was taking their time. One quick glance across told him the others were doing the same. The

footsteps stopped. The shadows under the door told him that the thing was out there, just beyond the door.

"Why's it here?" Dean whispered. John shrugged. "But why?" he insisted. "Doesn't it seem a little weird to you? It attacks now when the place is full of hunters?"

"maybe it's suicidal," joked Bobby grimly

"Or maybe it's desperate," uttered Caleb seriously.

"It desperately wants something more like," put in John.

Just then a disturbingly familiar voice echoed through the door into the Church calling "Dean! De-ean!"


	10. Chapter 10

disclaimer: nothing is owned by me.

Silence reigned inside the Church.

"That..._that...voice." _whispered Dean anguishedly.

"De-ean!" the voice called again. "Don't make me come in there and get you."

John rushed over to Dean and pulled him away from the door. "you, you can hear it too?_ Right?"_ he pleaded. John pulled Dean away from the door and up the aisle.

"De-ean! Come out Come out whereever you are!" the voice sang. Dean pulled himself out of his dads grip. He started to walk back down the aisle, back to the door.

"Dean! What are you doing?" cursed John. He threw himself between his son and the door and tried to push him away.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Dean yelled, trying to get past him. "HE's calling me! I'm not going to run away!"

"Have you lost your mind?!"

"Dean, honey," interjected Missouri, "Whatever is out there is evil. It's not him. Believe me!"

"That evil's probably hurting him!" growled Dean irrationally, "He needs me!" He struggled against Johns grasp.

"Help me!" he cried to Bobby who hurried away from the door. The door swung open and sunlight streamed in, shilloetting the tall figure in shadow. Time seemed to stand still.

Dean became limp in Johns arms and the onlookers seemed frozen between wonder and fear

Sam took a step into the Church. He searched the crowd until he found Missouri, "You didn't think that that would stop me?" She shrank away. John was torn from Dean. He

flew a few feet into the air and hit the ground with a dull thud. He lay still. A woman screamed and another man yelled. No-one moved.

"Dad!" Dean screamed. He couldn't move, not that he didn't try. He squirmed on the spot for a second then, realising he wouldn't be able to help his father at the minute, turned

to face his brother.

"What are you?"

"I'm Sam," he smiled.

"No you're not," Dean growled, "who are you?"

Sam looked a little crestfallen. "I'm an old friend of your family. I had the pleasure of meeting your mother."

"You BAS-"

"Nuh-uh!" Sam admonished, "There are children here."

Missouri gasped.

"What do you want?"

"You aren't really that quick on the uptake. Consider that I've been calling for you for the past ten minutes and ask me that again."

"But why?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You Winchesters talk too much," he pointed at himself, "YOu should have heard this one. The language he came out with. Tut tut. But still, he put up a

better fight than you anyway, with all your whiny questions. You want to know why- you both have something that I want."

hint: Misouri gasping is going to be a huge deal.


	11. Chapter 11

disclaimer: nothing is owned by me.

thanks for all the reviews.

Chapter 11.

Dean laughed. The sound echoed around the church. He drew the entire gaze of the congregation upon him. Each face asked the same thing, what in the hell was he laughing at?

Sam looked slightly annoyed, as though he had not expected this effect on Dean. Dean couldn't help it, it was funny. It was like the plot of an awful movie.

"You...want me...Sam?" he managed to choke out between chuckles.

"Yeah," Sam sounded intrigued, "what's so funny?"

"You."

"Me?!" It was Sams turn to look bewildered.

"You are one stupid-" He looked at Sam, waiting for him to elaborate, Sam remained silent and Dean continued, "Whatever. You get Sam away from me, convince me he's dead

and then show up here, like that? Well, little brother, I'm going to kill you're sorry ass. I'm going to do worse than that- I'll kill you, save my brother, ressurect you and kill you

again." Dean wasn't laughing anymore.

"Strong words big brother," whispered Sam silkily.

"you're not him," Dean growled. He looked murderous.

"I am now. Trust me. Sam's gone." He winked. Dean struggled against the invisible bonds that held him. Sam flicked a hand and it was Deans turn to fly a little through the air. He

landed beside Missouri and safely on his butt. Sam smiled at him and picked his way through the immobile crowd. He took care to stop at people who glared particularly hard at

him.

"Sam,"

Deans eyes flew to Missouri who was whispering harshly to him.

"What?" He turned to check on Sam, who was now leering at Caleb, and it was a second before he realised that he was able to move. He moved his head back to were it was

before and waited for Sam to approach.

"Sam's here."

Sam stopped in front of Dean. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam prepare to kneel down beside him. Crouching, Sam was thrown off his feet by an unseen force. Dean

leapt up and bounded over to Sam. In one swift movement, he leapt on top of Sam and punched him across the face, knocking him out instantly.

"Nah, hah." he taunted, unable to resist it. There was a breath of cold air, goosbumps forming along the back of his neck and a voice talking as clearly as though spoke into his ear,

"Figures, I just save your ass and you knock me out."


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, the last chapter created quite a lot of confusion.I hope this clears it all up.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Whatever spell Sam had cast over the crowd broke as soon as Dean knocked him out. Dean, unaware of this, jumped slightly a second later when a trickle (which soon turned to a

stampede) of people headed for the doors. In the general confusion, he stared at Sam, unsure of what he had heard.

"John's breathing," growled Bobby. Dean broke his stare and saw that Bobby had made his way over to where JOhn had fallen. Deans insides gave a guilty squirm, he had not

thought of his dad.

"Sam?" he asked. His voice was covered by the din. At last the noise died down and all that remained in the Church were Bobby, who was quietly and quickly checking John,

Pastor Jim, who was helping Bobby, Missouri, who was hovering a little way off, Caleb and a couple of other hunters he didn't recognise.

He jumped, this time so high he couldn't successfully cover it, when a voice replied "Yeah. Hey Dean." If he hadn't been watching the unconscious Sam at that exact moment he

would not have believed it. He had heard Sams voice but his lips had not moved.

"Sam? WHere are you?" He looked wildly about. Caleb had disappeared.

"Sam is here Dean. I can see him." Missouri answered.

Dean wheeled around, "So can I." He gestured impatiently at the still unconscious Sam on the floor.

"No," Missouri moved closer, "Sam, the real Sam is here. Sam, your brother Sam. That Sam."

Dean could feel his jaw slacken slightly, "Where?"

"Right here."

His heart was thumping wildly. He forgot everything- the danger they were in, the little time they could have left- everything. It was Sam, he was talking to Sam!

"I'm so s-" he began

"Save it" Sam dismissed automatically. "No time for that."

"But you're dead. We thought, I thought-" Dean didn't seem capable of forming complete sentences.

"I'm not technically," Dean could hear the raw sarcasm in his brothers voice. "Seeing as I'm alive and breathing. Though I don't know how alive I'll be after that."

Dean's eyes slid to his unconscious brother on the floor. "Yes, that." Dean had the feeling that Sam, wherever he was, had followed his gaze. "Sorry about that."

Dean heard a dry chuckle, "No, don't be. It was the only way you were going to shut it up."

"Ask him how he's still here," Bobby asked, his eyes on Dean. "How is he talking to you, if that demon is possessing him."

"I'm not deaf," Dean resisted the urgeto laugh, instead he chose to ask, "You can't hear him, can you?"Numerous head shaking greeted this answer. So he'd been, effectively, talking

to himself for the past five minutes. Sam stirred on the floor.

"Tie him up." An unnamed hunter hastened to obey. Dean looked away, "So Sammy. Why are we having this chat?"

"I need your help Dean?"

"Sure. Yes. Anything!" Dean hastened to say.

"I need you to kill me."

Horror filled him with this request. Revolted, he exclaimed, "WHAT? No! Of course not! Why would you ask that?"

"Because Dean," Sam's voice was quieter this time, "I'm stuck. That thing, that demon, the night it came, I couldn't stop it. I tried so hard. The flames were so high. I could barely

see."

"It's okay Sammy. I know you did."

"No, you don't! I couldn't save her! I couldn't see her, but I could hear her. She was screaming. Then it came at me-" Sam broke off.

"You were possessed?" Dean asked quietly.

"I think so, I don't remember much. And then, he did something. It was awful. I woke up like this- stuck as a ghost. No-one could see me or hear me. It took me awhile but I

tracked you down. I saw you, sitting out behind a tree sobbing. That was scary. I've been with you and dad this whole time, trying to get you two to hear me. Beats me, why you

can hear me now."

"I'm not complaining," interjected Dean.

"Me neither. But the point is, I've had a lot of time to think. A whole lot. And the way I see it is- I am dead. Plain and simple. But because it's in me, my hearts beathig and my brains

working, I am stuck here. Alone. And I don't want to be alone. I want to be seen. I want to be at peace."

Dean didn't know what to say for a second. Anger coursed through him silently. "That is the biggest pile of crap, I have ever heard."

"Excuse me?"

"What did you expect me to say, huh? Yeah, sure and then happily stab you. You've been away too long, I'm Dean remember. Your big brother? The one that loves ya? Do you

really think that there is any hope, or any chance, that I'd let do that? I get that you want to be at peace, but here's the kicker Sam. Life's a bitch. There's no way that I'll ever do

that."

"But Dean, I saved you-"

"Just so you'd have an out," he growled.

"No! You're my brother. I don't want you to die."

"Same here."

"I'm already," Sam began to counter.

"No you're not. You're still here. Your body's still working and so are you-"

"Dean you are reaching."

"No! No, Im not. There's still a chance. A Chance to save you!"

There you all go. A nice long chapter:)


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